A Bullet for an Eye
by jaa162
Summary: Lydia Simpson thought that she was a normal girl, until Wesley Gibson shows up and bullets go flying. Now she's on the run trying to piece together a bigger picture and figure out where she fits. It also doesn't help that Wesley is distracting when he's shirtless...
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Have you heard the news?  
Bad things come in twos.  
But I never knew  
'Bout the little things._

_-_Danny Elfman

* * *

As I laid there on the cold, damp floor, bloody and bruised, I began to laugh.

Yep, I laughed.

I laughed at how fucked up my life had become less than 72 hours ago.

I laughed at how I had got caught up in all of this mess.

Here I was, a 22-year-old community college student, lying on a floor, blood coming out of my nose and mouth, and how I had the deadliest assassins on the planet chasing my ass.

Me, an ordinary girl whose father left when she was 2.

Me, whose mother could barely hold down a job or a man.

Me, who graduated 10th in her class in high school.

So why me? What made me so damn special?

I don't know, but everything in my life changed when I met Wesley Gibson.

* * *

**AN: So this came to me while I was sitting around work bored. Then, I looked up the plotline for the Wanted video game, Weapons of Fate, and took elements of that storyline, the supposed storyline for the maybe-maybe not sequel, and meshed it with my own. I've been wanting to write this story forever, so I'm excited. **

**Please Review!**


	2. Meeting Wesley

**Chapter 1-****Meeting Wesley**

I stared at my notes in front of me and they were a jumbled mess. I had no idea what any of this meant. The sad thing about school is that you learn all of this bullshit, but you rarely use it once you go out into the real world. I still hadn't declared my major, and was in my second year, despite the fact that I was 22-year-old. I had taken a break after high school, until my dead-end job as a janitor at a nursing home was getting me nowhere and making me no money.

So, now I just walked the halls aimlessly, trying to figure out what to do for the next 50 or so years. My two friends, Jessica and Amy, knew exactly what they wanted to be and were due to graduate this year. Amy had even landed a job as an online marketing executive for Yahoo. Jessica was going off to Harvard to continue studying law. I had nothing.

I twirled my pen absently as the professor went on and on about Shakespeare and love and death. It was well known fact that even though Romeo and Juliet is a tragic story, it was still pretty stupid of two teenagers to kill themselves over puppy love. I mean, today, they would've been over in 2 seconds after they screwed each other, and then Romeo would've Facebook Stalked her until they reunited at the 20 year reunion.

My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket and I pulled it out. It was text message from my mom. She was staying in Chicago for "work". Ever since her new boyfriend got her a job as a secretary for one of his friends, I barely saw her. She spent more time with that corporate bastard than me.

Then, everyone jumped as the fire alarms went off. Everyone began shuffling out of the room and I stuck with Amy, who was also in my class. We went out into the hallway until five men dressed in SWAT uniforms stopped us in our tracks.

"Get down! Get down on your knees!" one of the men told us.

"What in the world is going on here?" our professor demanded.

"It's none of your concern, old man. Everything is under control. We just need to speak to Lydia Simpson."

I froze. Me? What did I do? I was a janitor, a community college student, and raised in a broken home. I was 5'4, 135 pounds, had short, chestnut hair, and big brown eyes and a round face. I was nobody.

I stood up slowly. I didn't want anyone to get hurt since I could tell something was off about the guys. "I'm…Lydia Simpson. What do you want?"

"We need you to come with us."

"Why?"

"Because-" Before the man could finish, he collapsed to the ground dead. There was a small hole in his forehead. Everyone screamed and began taking off in the opposite direction, me included. Behind us, gunshots rang out and it made everyone run faster.

Suddenly, I tripped and was pushed to the ground. The crowd had disappeared behind the exit doors and I was alone. I could hear the sound of gunshots and I heard a body hit the ground. Footsteps began to approach the corner, and I quickly got to my feet. The water fountain next to me suddenly exploded and a stream of water burst free from it, soaking my clothes.

I wiped my damp hair from my face and backed away as a figure approached me. I felt my back hit the wall and a man with steel blue eyes stared at me. "You have no idea how long it took me to find you. Those guys gave me hell back there, but it was to be expected, I guess."

"Who are you? Who are those guys? What do you want?"

"Long story short: I'm Wesley, those were assassins, not SWAT, and what I want is what they want. _You_. Or what you have."

His face was awfully close and his breath on my face sent shivers up and down my body. He wasn't particularly attractive, more average-looking at best, but his eyes were a bright blue that pulled me in like a moth to a flame. I noticed the wife beater underneath his faded leather jacket was damp, and I could see his abs pulsing through them.

I managed to pull myself together and asked, "What I have?"

Wesley stepped back a bit. I let out a breath of relief. His eyes were suffocating me and his closeness was making me uncomfortable. "Yes. Listen, I'll explain on the way, but we need to go. Now!"

Wesley grabbed my hand and pulled me through the double doors. My feet nearly failed to keep up with him since he was so quick and much fit than I was. Soon, we approached a silver, raggedy Toyota Rav4, and I hesitated at the passenger door.

"Get in!" Wesley ordered.

I shook my head. "Why should I trust you? How do I know you won't kill me after you get what you want? How do I know if you're the good guy and they're not?"

"I never said I was the good guy. And neither are they. They've killed as much as I have but at least I know that I won't kill you. I can't promise that they won't. Now get in."

At that moment, the mirror on Wesley's side shattered and bullets lit up the back of the car.

I hopped inside and buckled myself in. My eyes widened as Wesley reached for a gun underneath his seat. He took the safety off, and fired at the black Mercedes behind us.

Wesley hit the gas as the back of the Mercedes hit the pavement and the driver lost control. The Mercedes hit another car and flipped over.

I looked at Wesley in horror. "What are you?"

"I'm an assassin," he replied as we speeded out of the parking lot.

* * *

**AN: So please review! More to come!**


	3. Kill Order

**Chapter 2-**Kill Order

Wesley turned out onto the street and soon we ended up on the highway. I clutched my seat for dear life as he flew in and out of cars. He even ran a few red lights.

"Where are we going? Where are you taking me?" I asked nervously.

"I'm trying to shake them off," he answered, glancing up at the rearview mirror.

"Who?" I glanced at the side mirror and spotted two vans speeding up behind us.

"Dammit!" Wesley muttered under his breath. Then, he rolled down his window and fired a few bullets at the vans without looking. One of them pierced the window of the van on the left side and it veered off course. I guessed that he killed the driver.

The other van was speeding up to my side of the car, and they shot the back windshield out. I screamed.

Wesley took a sharp turn left at an upcoming intersection and I winced as my head hit the window. The van followed us and Wesley hit the gas. Then, he threw out his arm in a weird curve, and the van behind us screeched along the ground as its front tires went out.

"Wesley!" I screamed as we were approaching another red light. Wesley pressed the gas even harder, and our back left tire went out just as we passed through the intersection.

The van was still rolling along, until an 18-wheeler ran into it and it burst into flames. I stared at the carnage in horror as Wesley turned the truck right. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths as I felt my body panic. My chest felt heavier, my eyes strained, and my whole body was shaking. Soon, my whole body felt as if it were filling up with water, and I waited for the numbness to set in as it always did.

"Do…you have an…inhaler or something? I think I'm having a panic attack. Can you take me to the hospital or something please?" I begged as I tried to catch my breath.

Wesley didn't say anything for a while, and I could feel the numbness set in and my heart rate begin to slow down. I realized that it was growing quiet outside and I opened my eyes.

Wesley was driving down an alleyway and soon parked the car in front of a garage. He turned off the engine and looked at me. My eyes slowly glanced his way.

"How do you feel now?" he asked.

"I…I feel…fine."

Wesley stared at me for another moment and then he climbed out of the car. He walked toward the garage, took out his gun, and shot the lock off of it. He lifted it up and revealed a red Ferrari. He entered it and backed it out of the garage. Then, he rolled down his window and I noticed he was wearing sunglasses.

"At this point, you have two options. You can sit there, and let them or the police find you, or you could get in this car and let me explain everything on the way to your house."

"What? Are you nuts?"

He didn't answer; he only rolled the window back up. I sat there for a moment and weighed my options. I still didn't know what was going on, and I didn't want to deal with the police, so I only had one choice left. Too bad it was the craziest one.

I sighed and hopped out of the truck and joined Wesley in the car. The windows were tinted, the leather was shiny, and it had that new car smell. I wondered if it was his car, or he just knew of the person he was stealing it from.

Wesley smirked as he revved up the engine and the car speeded out of the alleyway. "Put these on." He handed me a pair of aviator sunglasses.

I put them on without questioning him. "Okay, I chose you, because, well, obviously I'm crazy. So, explain. What the hell is going on?"

Wesley sighed and asked, "Where do you live?"

"On Keys Drive in Melany Parkplace. Don't change the subject."

"I need to know where I'm going. I'm sure they've already beaten us there."

"WHO?" I yelled at him, impatiently.

"The Fraternity. The Fraternity is a league of assassins. There are several branches all over the world. I was part of the one based here, the Chicago Fraternity. They recruited me, trained me, and taught me everything I need to know about killing."

"But they're trying to kill you now, aren't they? You did something."

Wesley was silent for a moment. Then, he said, "Yes. And I thought that I would right that wrong, by killing everyone that was a part of the Chicago Fraternity. However, I only opened a can of worms. That's where you come in."

"How?"

"I was doing some digging and learned of a kill order that went missing 20 years ago. A kill order is the name of the person that fate decides to put to death. The Fraternity follows it no matter what, and no matter who it is. However, some of our leaders didn't like the names that were coming up, so they would change it to suit them."

"Meaning they corrupted the system so they wouldn't be killed, right?"

"Yes. My father, who was a member of the Fraternity, discovered this was happening before I was born. It began a civil war among the Fraternities. One of the leaders, the Immortal, killed my mother. But I learned that this kill order may have his name on it, which might be why it has been missing for two decades."

"…And what does that have to do with me?"

I could see that we were reaching my neighborhood. It was only a matter of time before we ended up at my house. I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Two member of the Paris Fraternity broke into my old apartment and I made them tell me everything. Apparently, your father stole the kill order and hid you away after you were born. He claimed that you died during your birth, but it was lie to throw off the Immortal. The Immortal tracked you down and offered a reward for your capture," Wesley explained glancing at me for a brief moment.

I think I had stopped breathing. _My father was alive? And he's an assassin? Possibly? _I didn't want to believe that everything that Wesley said was true; it was obvious he was leaving a few details out, but everything else added up. But why now? After all these years, why come after me now? Was it because of what Wesley did? Did his actions cause some sort of chain reaction?

"So, is that why you're protecting me? You want the kill order so you can clear your name and collect the reward. So you'll just toss me to the lions then, huh?" I demanded.

Wesley said nothing.

"Stop the car."

"What?"

"STOP THE CAR!"

Wesley pulled over into the parking lot of a park, and I jumped out right before he stopped the car. I spotted my house on the other side and made a break for it.

"LYDIA!" Wesley called out but I ignored him.

I barely stopped when a car passed me and went through my gate and ran up the steps. Our house was an old white townhouse, with a small backyard and an above ground pool. It had 2 bedrooms and one bathroom that mom and I shared.

When I reached the door, I realized that it had been kicked open and I slowly made my way inside. A lamp was broken right in the door way and I carefully stepped over the glass. I peered into the doorway of the living room and saw that it had been ransacked. I quickly made my way through the kitchen and saw that it had been ransacked as well.

The house was a complete mess. I took off the sunglasses so I could completely survey the damage. I ran upstairs to check out my room and mom's. Hers was a mess, but mine looked way worse.

My bed was overturned, my drawers were practically hanging off of my dresser, and all of my clothing was spread out on the floor. I just crumpled to the floor and tears began to sting my eyes. I felt so lost, and I didn't know what to do. Who could I trust? Who was good and bad?

That was a hard answer, since both Wesley and my dad had killed people. The people who were after me killed people too. How could I trust a band of killers not to kill me?

I wiped my face just as I heard a creak down the hall. I froze and tried not to move. The sad part about the house was that you could hear every movement. Even if I ran to the closet, it wouldn't save me.

The creaking got closer until I heard the soft footsteps approaching my room. My heart was pounding quickly and my hands were clamming up. I closed my eyes and braced for the sound of gun going off near my head.

Instead, the footsteps paused and I heard Wesley whisper, "Lydia, are you ok?"

My eyes flew open. "Yes, but what are you doing here?" I asked in my normal voice.

"SHHHH! They're in the basement. Did you find it?" he asked in a whisper.

I shook my head. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be looking for," I whispered back.

Wesley put his gun behind his back and helped me off of the floor. I clutched his jacket tightly as I steadied myself and he pulled out a piece of cloth from his pocket. There were tiny dots strewn throughout the cloth. "This? This is a kill order? But it doesn't make any sense!"

Wesley clamped his hand over my mouth and dragged me into the closet. He placed a finger over his mouth, and I remained silent. A minute later, we heard voices emerge from downstairs as a door was shut.

"It's not here. I knew it wouldn't be here. We have to find the girl. She's the only one who could possibly know where it is," a thick Spanish accent said frustratingly.

A deeper voice asked, "But she's with Wesley Gibson. He's looking for it too. Why don't we just wait for them to show up?"

The other voice snorted. "Because that would be the obvious…wait, where did these sunglasses come from?"

I gasped and I knew Wesley was staring at me with pure hatred. I had left the glasses on the counter in the kitchen. I had exposed us. The first voice began to lapse in Spanish with the other voice and I heard the click of their guns. Their footsteps went off in different directions, and my blood froze as one of them began to ascend upstairs.

Wesley drew out his pistol, and I backed away a bit, before stumbling over a box. I could practically hear Wesley roll his eyes at me in the dark. "Stay here," he whispered and he exited the closet.

I heard his footsteps disappear down the hall, and it was silent for a good 3 minutes. Then, the bullets began flying. I began searching the closet for something until I found a bat. I had taken up baseball for a month in elementary school and it had just taken up space in my closet since then.

But I didn't know how to wield a gun so this was the next best thing. I slowly exited the closet as a bullet pierced the door to my room.

"Give it up, Gibson!" the Spanish voice taunted.

More bullets rang out and I heard a female whimper. Footsteps ran down the stairs and they were followed by another set. I ran to the window and stared down. I tried to decipher if the fall from the second story would kill me, until I heard the click of a gun.

I dropped the bat as I heard a gun of off. I opened my eyes when I realized that the gunfire had resumed downstairs. I turned around and the person holding the gun at me looked no older than 18. He was taller than me, had an average build, and pale skin. He also had freckles on his face, thin lips, and scared green eyes.

"So you're alive then? I knew we would find you here, but she didn't believe me. She thought that Gibson would've taken the kill order from you and shot you dead. But she was wrong. She was wrong!" he grinned.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Kyle. I was in Spain studying abroad in Barcelona when they recruited me. Then, they sent me back to the states to find you. Lydia Simpson, the only person in 20 years to have seen that kill order. You know where it is don't you?"

"NO! How many times do I have to tell everybody that I…" my voice trailed off when I noticed a picture of mom and me at the beach in a broken frame on the floor. I pulled it out from the broken glass and stared at it for a moment. _Mom._

In all this time, I hadn't thought of her, if she was in danger or if she knew what was going on. Something about the picture spoke to me and then it hit me…I think I know where the kill order is.

Kyle knew that I had figured it out, as he lowered his gun. The gunfire downstairs was still ongoing, but I was caught up in my own revelation. "You know where it is don't you? Tell me, and we can be on our way."

"I….well, I don't…exactly…" I stuttered.

"Don't play dumb. You know. Just tell me and this can be over for you. I can convince her to let you walk away from this. The kill order is all we came for. Well, that and Wesley Gibson's head."

"What?"

"He didn't tell you, did he? Wesley Gibson is number one on the Fraternity's blacklist for killing several Fraternity members, including Sloan, one of the leaders, and his own father. He also has a 10 million dollar bounty on his dead body," Kyle explained.

"So that's why he wants the kill order, isn't it? To clear his name and lift the bounty? He doesn't care about the reward," I murmured. _Or me, for that matter._

"I guess so, but-" Then, Kyle fell to the ground dead with a bullet in his forehead. I covered my mouth and jumped back a bit. Wesley came around the corner limping a bit, pistol in hand. A small stain of blood on the left side of his abdomen was growing bigger.

I backed away and crumpled the picture in my hands. Wesley limped over to me clutching his side. He gave me a quick examination with his eyes and then I asked, "You just had to kill him didn't you? What about the other one?"

"I shot her in the leg and stomach to slow her down, but she'll be up here in no time. We need to get out of here. I know the police are on their way, too. They'll find us-"

"And you'll be dead," I finished.

Wesley nodded and I grabbed my bat as I followed him out of the room. My heart went out to Kyle as he was just caught up in this as I was. I don't think he ever killed anyone, ever. Maybe he was just trying to prove something.

Once again, I didn't really know why I was following Wesley after I just watched him kill someone. I just had this feeling that following him was the right thing to do. However, I was afraid of what would happen when we found the kill order. There would be nothing to stop Wesley from putting a bullet in my head.

We were at the door just as the police turned down my street. "Dammit!" Wesley groaned and he winced as more blood began to seep out of his wound.

I ran into the kitchen and pulled out all of the spray cans I could get my hands on, and turned on the oven and stove. The police pulled up in front of the house just as the woman crawled out of the living room. She aimed her pistol at Wesley but he moved out of range and she missed.

I grabbed Wesley's hand as she shot at him again and headed for the back door. We barely made it out of the house as it exploded and we were thrown onto the ground.

I blacked out.

* * *

As I regained consciousness, I tried to regain feeling in my body, but it was stiff. I felt a was covered in concrete from head to toe. I moved my pinky and soon it broke out of its hold. I lifted up my body with all of the strength I had and felt the concrete shatter like glass into the water. I realized that I was lying in a bathtub, and all I had on was my bra and underwear.

The room looked abandoned with dusty windows, bare walls, and empty floors. I pulled myself out of the tub and winced when my bare feet touched the cold floor and the cold air hit my body. There was a towel hanging on a chair along with a pair of dry sweatpants. I quickly changed into the sweatpants and matching hoodie and went out into the hallway.

I roamed around and realized that I was in an abandoned church. I soon heard voices and knocked on the door to what seemed to be an office. Wesley opened it and sighed in relief, "You're awake."

I blinked at him. He was shirtless and his upper body was still glistening. The place where he had been shot had disappeared. You would have never known he had been shot by looking at him.

I realized that I was staring so I glanced away. "And you're, um, not bleeding anymore."

Wesley pulled me inside. "It's something I learned from the Fraternity."

"Oh." I didn't press as an elderly man with a grey spiky hair, a receding hair line, and stern eyes. He looked me up and down and I began shuffling my hands through my damp hair.

"Lydia, this is Pekwarsky. He's a former member of the Fraternity, and an ally of my father," Wesley said in a neutral voice.

"It's nice to meet you…I guess," I said as I shuffled my feet. _Oh great, another assassin._

"It's nice to finally meet you, Miss Simpson. You've cause quite a stir among the Fraternities. I must say you do remind me of…never mind. I'm sure she's long dead by now. Anyways, I hate that we're meeting under these circumstances, especially after receiving the news."

"What news?" I glanced between the both of them.

The two men exchanged looks before Wesley sighed. Then, he said, "We've just learned that…your mother has been kidnapped."

* * *

**AN: So I just let myself write on this one. So yeah, a lot is going on for our poor heroine. So the next chapter I'm gonna try to dig more into Wesley's psyche and develop Lydia and Wesley's relationship more. She trusts him even though she doesn't want to, but she feels he's the safest choice that she has right now. I still have some more twists and turns so stay tuned!**

**Please Review!**


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